


Five Times Rosa Met Amy (Outside of Work)

by Missy



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Bookstores, Cooking Lessons, Developing Relationship, F/F, Five Times, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Paintball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 14:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20448452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: So what if Rosa liked to read books?





	Five Times Rosa Met Amy (Outside of Work)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flipflop_diva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/gifts).

> A remix of flipflop_diva's Five Times Amy Met Rosa (Outside of Work) retold from Rosa's perspective.
> 
> Read flipflop_diva's original story [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3776461)

So what if Rosa liked to read books? Who the hell didn’t? Books were for tough people. Like Bruce Lee. Bruce Lee loved books.

Bruce Lee wouldn’t carry a book close to his chest, as if it were some sort of filthy secret. Nor would he avoid eye contact. Then again he wasn’t trying to grab the latest Carolyn Browne and bring it to the register without being detected by someone who would think he was less than cool for reading her.

Damn Reese Witherspoon and her effervescent charm.

Rosa managed to edge her way toward the register when she bumped into Amy. Amy, of all people. What the hell was she doing here? She didn’t want to know.

But Amy, with those observant eyes of hers, easily noticed that Rosa had a book with her. “Oh my God,” Amy said. “You’re in the book club, too?”

Rosa stuck out her jaw. Amy took her silent yes with a lot of obvious and clear glee and left her alone.

The book turned out to be great, too. To Rosa’s utter horror.

Maybe Reese’s taste wasn’t too awful, Rosa decided. But she wasn’t going to tell that one to Amy, not on her life.

**** 

She’s only here because Charles kept nagging her about how great the classes were. Rosa didn’t need to have kitchen skills, but Charles had a coupon and when he pointed out that someday she might have to go undercover as a chef, Rosa capitulated.

Anything perfumed with the promise of large, sharp knives, after all, pleased Rosa greatly.

The idea of going to NYU for hours, however, pleased Rosa a great deal less. But whatever – the food smelled good. And she looked good in a leather apron.

When she saw Amy, it was as if the universe was trying to pull a prank on her. But Rosa made extra room for her at her work station. Amy was an excellent note taker, after all, and her skills as a chirpy know-it all might come in handy.

Six classes and twenty four laminated folders with forty-five color-coded recipes later, they settled on what they wanted to cook for their final project. Rosa did all the heavy lifting – pulling big porcelain pans out of the oven and filling them with fresh ingredients, chopping berries or meat or vegetables. Amy did the careful measuring, mixing, and portioning. By the end of the night they successfully produced a blueberry pie that looked like a forty ton explosive had hit it. 

But it still tasted pretty good.

***

Amy was late to the game. Maybe ten minutes, maybe twenty; Rosa isn’t sure which. She frankly lost track of the time because she’d been trying to kill Gina with a hail of green pellets without getting red in her hair or elbowing Terry in the face.

Terry was a great partner, but his tendency to leap into things all gung-ho wasn’t the best choice when you were trying to survive a warzone.

Jake was grinning from behind a stopgap, wearing a helmet that made him look like Snoopy trying to shoot down the Red Barron. She wanted to make his Sunday very, very messy.

The next time she looked up, she swore Scully was kneeling behind her, licking at a stray spot of paint on the ground. Rosa didn’t ask questions. She just locked and loaded her gun and stared right into Jake’s face.

He was going down. So hard.

Then Amy popped right up in her line of vision and Rosa let out a frustrated grunt. 

“Santiago. So we meet again,” Rosa said.

Any looked completely confused – a rare expression for someone who was terminally so together at every single waking moment of her life. Apparently she didn’t get the clever Predator reference inherent in Rosa’s mercenary outfit. “We meet every day at work.”

Rosa cocked her gun and tried to keep a bead on Jake’s big, curly head. “You know what I mean.”

“I think it means you like seeing me on your days off!” Amy said, in the exact same tone she used to declare that she could totally drink a whole bottle of hot sauce without throwing up (in your face, Jake and Charles!).

“That’s not what I meant,” Rosa said, and nudged Amy aside so she could pick off Hitchcock. He continued to eat his lunch, wearing a bright green mark of paint in the center of his chest. She was kind of aware of Jake chewing him out while she crawled on her Belly to find Gina.

“I think it is!” Amy said, ducking a ball of paint as Jake tried to fire on her.

“I think I hate you,” Rosa said, and took Gina out as she scrolled through her Twitter feed.

“You might think that, but you don’t. I know better. I know better, Ro…” She trailed off as the helmet she’d donned rocked forward violently, Jake having sniped her from behind and Amy having accidentally acted like a shield for Rosa.

While she made an embarrassed sound, he popped up out of his foxhole to crow. “BOOM, HEADSHOT!” Jake yelled.

Rosa shot him for that. Twice.

*** 

Amy was only a little drunk when she came up to Rosa in a blue velvet dress at the wine bar. She wasn’t three-drink Amy, thankfully – Rosa didn’t really remember how many drinks it took to put Amy under the table, but it was plenty.

She didn’t complain when Amy sat beside her. In fact, she may or may not have worn a black dress just because she was hoping to see her.

And laughed at her drunken jokes. Well. Most of them.

*** 

When Amy moved in two years later, Rosa said that it was because having her around was more exciting and stimulating than adopting a puppy. Plus no late-night walks when Amy needed to pee.

Amy just laughed and handed her four color-coded binders with carefully selected plastic tabs attached to the important pages containing their wedding plans.


End file.
